


Wind Sprints and Physics, An Excerpt

by Apostrophic



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Couch Sex, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Season/Series 06, prompt what prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-07-18 19:07:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16124849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apostrophic/pseuds/Apostrophic
Summary: “Do that thing,” Scully said, while she could still talk.There’s a couch and two agents and they get hot and heavy and try but fail to slow down. Smut n’ love, season 6.





	Wind Sprints and Physics, An Excerpt

“Mulder.” Scully took his face in both hands, breaking his mouth off of hers. He leaned back in. She pulled back farther. She held his face there a second as they both caught their breath. “Give me a second,” she said. 

She sounded breathless. Like she had been doing wind sprints uphill. 

“Too fast?” Mulder panted. He had done the same sprints. “Slow. I can do slower.” 

His face cracked with a grin. His lip looked wet and swollen. Scully tasted it, a quick kiss, just to last her until she could taste him again.

His hair felt soft in her fingers. She whorled it in slow circles. Mulder didn’t have that much willpower. Mouth first, he dove back in. 

Scully was quicker. She ducked him, redirecting his mouth to the base of her neck. “Slow down,” she told him, still breathing fast. They’d had sex twice this week already, each time a sprint, not a marathon. They had their issues with waiting. 

He licked the salt off her skin, sucked hard then let go before he left a mark. “Like that?”

“Slower.” She felt giddy, almost dizzy. He did it again, slower and longer that time. A cushion fell off the couch. Scully laughed out loud, breathless. He pulled her completely beneath him, then propped up on his arms, smug with his face above hers. 

“Next?” he requested.

The show-off. His eyes gleamed. He looked slightly shelled when Scully licked her wet lips. “Not my mouth,” she said, guessing, when his gaze fixated there. “Anywhere but my mouth.”

Mulder never backed down from a challenge. He nudged her face to one side, breathed up the line of her neck, took the tip of his tongue and traced the edge of her ear. 

Scully slid down on the couch, gripping his waist with both hands, getting handfuls of shirt. She had unhooked both her earrings. He sucked the soft skin into the pool of his mouth. 

“Goddammit,” she whispered, under her breath. Mulder used his teeth barely, giving her ear a light tug.

“Next?” he whispered, with his breath. He kissed her again, on the side of her face, not giving her time to think. Again, then again. 

“Do that thing,” Scully said, while she could still talk. 

“What thing?”

“With your hands.”

Mulder sat up on the couch. “You have to come here for that.” 

Her clothes were askew. She didn’t bother to straighten them. She disentangled her legs, followed him across the couch. He pulled her onto his lap. 

“This thing?” Mulder asked, sliding in his hands in her hair. 

Her mouth went dry with how badly she wanted to kiss him. 

He slid his hands out of her hair. It gave her mouth time to water. Studiously, he began to unbutton her sweater, get to her skin beneath it. This was part of their problem; she had opened the door wearing nothing under her sweater, just to see what he’d say. There had not been much talking. She exhaled a breath now, trying to remember to breathe. His thighs were warm under hers and his hands were warm on her skin and all the heat in the room coalesced in her chest when he slid his hand up unimpeded and cupped her breast.

“Oh,” she said, a soft croak.

His thumb drew a slow circle. He cracked a grin through the haze of lust and distraction. “Oh, what?”

“Oh. Just— _oh_.” 

“I think you should try to be more specific.” Mulder moved his hand up and squeezed her with his palm. She made a soft sound of hunger. “Talk to me, Scully.”

“Um,” she said, eloquent. He tried helping her out, tracing up the sides of her breast, teasing the tip of it, tugging there too before he palmed her again. “Do that a little bit rougher.”

“Rougher?”

“Just… _more_.” Scully took hold of his hand, pressing it harder against her. He squeezed, his hand big, rough and warm on her skin, that perfect big feel of him that did hot things inside her.

“Jesus, Scully,” he said as she clamped down on his thighs. 

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he croaked. “More?” 

“More.”

Mulder didn’t need to hear twice. He took that focus he had that blocked out the world and applied it to one breast at a time, moving back and forth to the other, palming and tugging and squeezing until both were heavy and full, pink-tipped and achy, her chest mottled with heat. “Scully?” he said, not sounding too steady, face-planting in the vicinity of where he wanted his mouth, kissing around her gold necklace when he could no longer stand it. 

It was where she wanted him too. Sounding a little bit ragged, she said, “Mulder. Your mouth. Put your mouth on me now.”

He gave a grunt of joy and relief. He hadn’t let go of her breast. He trailed down open-mouthed kisses, still squeezing her with his hand, making her skin tight with want as he rubbed his face down around her and then at long aching last pulled her into his mouth. 

_Fuck._ She breathed. _Mulder._ She had said that out loud. He hummed his response on her breast, the heat going straight through her. She might as well have drunk whiskey. It traveled straight to her belly, down into her bones, welling between her legs. Mulder stayed with her, splaying his hands on her back. He used his mouth on her breast the way that most people prayed, attentive and reverent. She clenched down on his leg, his hands stroking heat lower, all the way down her back. 

She felt reduced to inanities. Yes, no. This, that. She guided. “Fuck, Scully,” he breathed, when it got really good. 

“Do that. Keep talking.”

“I can’t,” Mulder said, his mouth full, and then kept saying things anyway. He slipped her breast out, kissed it wetly, slid his mouth back down around her. “Fuck. You’re so— Scully.”

She clutched the back of his shirt, one hand gripped in his hair. She made a sound to agree.

“You’re so _wet_.” He sucked hard, then soothed her down with his tongue. They could both feel it, the damp heat of her thighs. She was about to soak through his jeans. He dialed it back down a notch, holding his mouth still a moment, then nuzzling her breast with a kiss. 

That was worse than the other things he had done with his mouth. Worse in the context where she tried to hold herself together, tried to take it slow. “Mulder,” she whispered. 

He didn’t hear her at first. He breathed around her, kissed gently, nuzzled her with his mouth as he mumbled endearments. He left one breast wet and pink and moved across to the other. 

She needed to feel him against her. He moved their bodies together, so hard that it made her ache when there was still clothing between them. “Mulder,” she said, and this time he looked up. 

She rubbed his mouth with her thumb, his big hands still kneading the lower curve of her back. “I need to come,” she said, flushed. He nodded. Him too. “With you inside me,” she said, and kissed the edge of his mouth. 

They piled their clothes on the floor. They laughed softly together at the ridiculousness of it, two pale, ready bodies, the messy pleasure of sex. She was so slick he slid in like they had overcome physics. “Mulder,” she said when she had him in deep, their bodies moving together.

She did not have to tell him that time. He adjusted the plane of his hips, shifting the angle a fraction. “Just like that,” she breathed out, and tried to ride it out with him, make it last, just like love. 

  


* * *

  
  


They barely fit on the couch. They were a tangle of limbs, wet and sticky, twined together like wild things, their bodies still humming with pleasure, pink and happy and naked. 

Mulder could not contain grins. “Did you come?” he asked her. He was stroking her belly, down and over her hips. Warmth kept stirring inside her in response to his touch. 

Scully was tempted to lie, tell him no, just so he would kiss down her body and make her come again. But he would do that for her anyway. “I think the neighbors could tell you.”

“We’ll conduct a poll of the building.” He slid his hand down her thighs, then up between her legs. His voice went deeper and warmer, like he had drunk whiskey. “‘Yes.’ ‘No.’ ‘Maybe.’ ‘More please.’” 

He slid one finger inside her. Her body flooded with heat all over again. “Mulder,” she said, and his other hand slid in her hair, his eyes warm and dark as he brought their mouths back together. 

He kissed her with tongue, slow and languid and heady, her hands trapped on his chest, then sliding around to his back. He reviewed the options with her, kissing each one in her mouth, finger stroking her gently. 

_‘Yes.’ ‘No.’ ‘Maybe.’ ‘More please.’_

It took her a long, long minute to say the two words back. 

**Author's Note:**

> As I told @lokisgame: the title should be flame emoji and the summary should be shrug emoji. This started off as a prompt and went way off prompt. [Shrug emoji] it is!


End file.
